Scatterheart
by Pasha Pasha
Summary: Death is inevitable. Whatever happens after that is less certain. Zam/Jango, Harley Quinn/Joker mentioned . Multi-chapter. Reviews are greatly, GREATLY appreciated.
1. Wake Up Dead

**((If you've read any of my other stories, you know that my fanfics are usually very, very short. This fanfic, however, is going to be my attempt at writing one that is actually of respectable length. I've written an outline and everything, so I should be able to achieve my goal. If you like this chapter, be sure to subscribe, because there's gonna be a lot more coming soon.))**

Ivy handled the plant hybrid gently, careful not to disturb the delicate leaves and petals. Plants of such fragility required a caretaker with a steady hand, as even one severed leaf could mean the worst for the flower that was only just starting to blossom. If raised correctly, the plant would start developing thorns in a matter of weeks, thorns that would secrete such potent toxins, that one prick could paralyze a full grown man. Unfortunately for the budding flower, weeds were starting to germinate in the surrounding soil, a dilemma that Ivy was currently trying to remedy. '_You live in a toxic marsh and weeds still find a way into your greenhouse.' _Ivy thought exasperatedly, _'Figures.'_

To do her job well, Ivy needed absolute silence. Ivy hoped to whatever gods existed that there would be no distractions. The gods obviously didn't like Ivy all that much. A distinctive, high-pitched scream erupted from outside the greenhouse, jolting Ivy out of any semblance of concentration and almost causing her to damage one of the oh-so-delicate leaves of the plant. She looked up angrily and saw her friend and confidant come flailing towards the greenhouse, screaming as she ran.

"SWAAAAAMP MOOOOOONSTER!" Harley yelled as she burst through the door of the greenhouse, slamming into the door almost hard enough to break the glass frame, "Red, there's a monster in the swamp! I saw it, I swear on-"

Ivy clasped her hand over Harley's mouth, silencing her. "Harley, I swear, if this is another mutated toad, then I am going to-"

Harley pushed Ivy's hand away and resumed babbling, "No, I promise it's not another toad! It was as tall as I was and had these slits in it's face and it's eyes were closed, so I thought it was dead, but, but-" Harley paused to take a gulp of air and continued, eyes closed, "But then when I got closer to see what it was, it must of heard me, because right when I was an arm's length away, it opened it's eyes and looked right at me!" Harley screamed again, causing Ivy to clasp her hands over her ears. If Harley smashing into the door hadn't broken the glass, Harley's screams might do the trick.

"Are you quite done yet?" Ivy asked as Harley's scream subsided, "Or are you going to try and deafen me again?"

Harley took a deep breath and when she spoke again, she sounded much more serious, "I can show you where the monster is." She said, "I promise I'm not making this up."

Ivy did her best to keep looking as stern as possible as she relented, "Okay, Harley, I'll go see your 'swamp monster.' But this better not be a joke, or I'll have you be my test subject when I'm done developing my newest neurotoxin." Harley only nodded eagerly, before turning and running towards the swamp, Ivy close at her heels.

%

_'This has to be the weirdest hangover ever experienced.' _Zam Wessel thought as she lay against the acrid swamp, the mud sucking at her paralyzed form. Her memories of the night before were foggy and disjointed. She remembered bright lights, a nightclub, and two men chasing her around Coruscant, details that Zam's muddled mind instantly associated with the concept of '_PARTY._' Waking up in an unfamiliar place with a pounding headache and only vague details of what happened the night before all lead her mind to the word, 'hangover.' As for the paralysis and the costumed humanoid that had ran through earlier? Her mind was still puzzled at that. At least the paralysis was wearing off. Feeling and movement had returned to her extremities and was spreading to the rest of her body. Until she could actually get herself off the ground, though, she'd have to be content with lying face up in the muck while her mind tried to search for details of what happened and where she was. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on something other than her aching head. At some point, it must have subsided, because she soon drifted off into a satisfyingly numb slumber.

%

"C'mon Red! It's just a little further!" Harley said excitedly as she sprinted through the sludge, barely even dirtying her signature red, black, and white attire, while Ivy followed at a more subdued pace behind her. She was still waiting for Harley to turn around and tell her it was all a joke. Swamp monsters? Ivy had been living here for years without seeing anything that fit the description Harley had given her and the fact that Harley was a certified nutcase didn't help the credibility of the story either. Ivy heard Harley squeal excitedly from further ahead, "I found it! I found it!" She said, jumping up and down and pointing like a child. Ivy followed closely behind her, scowling. The scowl was replaced by a look of shock as she saw what Harley was pointing at. The creature that lay face-up on the ground was humanoid, but definitely not human. Its skin was a dark greenish gray and pulled taut against the "monster's" skeletal face. The sunken sides of the creature's visage had strange slits in them, almost like gills on a fish. Another deeper slit split the upper part of the face into two halves, perfectly down the middle. The creature's eyes were closed, but the eyelids were thin enough that Ivy could see it's slit pupils darting in REM sleep. The creature was clothed in a complex mix of purplish cloth, metal armor, and machinery. The layout of its apparel somehow seemed feminine, though Ivy couldn't be sure. It looked like something out of a science fiction film.

"I told you so." Harley whispered triumphantly.

Ivy ignored her friend, instead motioning her aside and carefully approaching the creature. She nudged its shoulder with her boot before quickly stepping back. "Wake up." She said hoarsely, still stunned at what she was seeing.

The creature groaned and its huge eyes fluttered open. It blinked and looked around, a disturbingly human expression of confusion on its face. Ivy took several steps back as the creature got slowly and unsteadily to its feet, leaning on a dead tree for support. It looked up at them in bewilderment and stared for a few moments before smiling suddenly and speaking in a dry, hissing voice. "That must've been some party, huh?"

Sometimes Ivy thought Harley just liked the sounds of her own screams.

%

Zam frowned fiercely at her mud caked armor as she sat in what seemed to be the living room of her new acquaintances small rustic home. The place was cozy enough, but either these people were very poor or the planet very backwards, because they seemed to lack the most basic of items. Not once had she seen any sort of droid and she had only received puzzled stares when complaining of her broken comlink. Besides their lack of technology, the duo also behaved quite strangely. They stared at her constantly, a disbelieving look on their face as if they had never laid eyes on a non-human before. They all sat in silence, Zam fidgeting uncomfortably as she avoided their wide-eyed stares.

"So…" The redheaded human female began cautiously, "What kind of mutant are you?" Zam started, surprised at the hostile term. Mutant? Only backwater yuks still used that term to refer to non-humans. "I'm _not _a mutant." Zam said indignantly. She glanced at the other humanoid, a blonde haired, blue-eyed female wearing a striking red and black costume. The human just stared back, mouth slightly open. She had been the same human who had screamed and ran away when she saw her in the swamp and who had screamed even louder when she had tried to be conversational. Zam was beginning to suspect that she had some sort of mental disability. The redhead crossed her arms, still staring intently at Zam.

"Then what are you? You obviously aren't human."

"Congrats, you've passed your eyesight test." Zam said sarcastically, "Kriff, are you telling me that you have _honestly_ never seen an alien before?" Alien wasn't popular among the more politically correct folk, but Zam figured cruder meant easier for this outlandish populace.

"No, I've never seen an alien." The redhead replied, "Is that supposed to be strange or something?" Her suspicions confirmed, it was Zam's turn to stare, "What, have you never left this house? Humans aren't the only species in the galaxy you know. I mean, what do you-"

"Have you come to abduct us?" The blonde chimed in fearfully, "I don't think I'd be a good abductee or whatever. Long distance flights make me queasy and I don't know the president or anything-"

"I'm not here to abduct you!" Zam snapped, "Aren't there aliens anywhere on this kriffing planet!"

"How did you end up here?" The redhead asked sharply, "Do you have a spaceship or something?"

"I have a starship," Zam started, "But… that's not how I ended up here. I just don't remember." She closed her eyes trying to recall how she got here. She felt strangely light-headed as she searched her mind for memories. _Speeder, lights, bar, severed arm. _Wait, what? The sudden mental image of her own detached arm prompted Zam to glance anxiously at her limbs. Of course, they were all there. "I don't feel so good." She mumbled. She got to her feet and paced back and forth. _Severed arm, alleyway, yelling. _Her hands flew to her head as more images came unbidden. The redhead jumped up and grabbed her to keep her from falling as her legs buckled beneath her. _Yelling, Jedi, interrogation. _Her thoughts became fainter and fainter, as the realization of what had happened hit her like a blaster bolt. The last coherent thought that filtered through her mind before she lost consciousness came in the form of a name; _Jango Fett. _

%

"Is she alright?" Harley asked, watching the humanoid's chest rise and fall steadily as she lay on the couch where Ivy had placed her.

"What makes you so sure it's a 'she?'" Ivy replied evenly.

"Clothes, mannerisms, body language…" Harley stopped and put her hands on her hips, "You're changing the subject. You always do that when you're worried. Can't you tell what's wrong with her?" Ivy sighed. Harley was right; she _was_ worried. "Well, I don't think it's the fumes from the marsh. She would've died a long time ago if that was the case."

"Maybe you should give her the vaccinations anyways…" Harley suggested hesitantly.

Ivy shook her head, "She's an alien. We don't know how her body would react to vaccinations." There was a reason besides that, but it went unspoken. Besides protecting against the swamp's toxic fumes, the cocktail vaccination also gave the receiver immunity against the toxins secreted from Ivy's lips and most of the poisons she created in the lab. Basically, it rendered Ivy's powers useless against whoever received it. The only person Ivy had ever trusted enough to give the vaccination to was Harley and that wasn't about to change.

"Her breathing is steady." Harley observed, "That's a good sign."

Shaken from her thoughts, Ivy looked back to their patient. "I don't understand it." She muttered, "She was talking about how she got here without a starship and then suddenly fainted."

"She wasn't talking about how she got here. She was talking about how she forgot." Harley corrected her. The blonde paused, a thoughtful look on her face, "She closed her eyes and was thinking. Like she was trying to remember."

Ivy shrugged, "You're the one with a degree in psychology." She said, "But why would remembering something cause her to pass out?"

"The human psyche is pretty messed up." Harley said with a slight smile, "It will do a lot to avoid a bad memory." The alien stirred, its eyes flickering open, causing both Harley and Ivy to look over.

Ivy cast a worried glance towards Harley before walking over to the alien. "Hey, uh alien, are you okay?" Ivy asked hesitantly.

The alien looked over at her, "My name is Zam Wesell." She said. Her voice sounded strangely hollow now. The sarcastic lilt it had earlier had vanished. She looked over at them, mouth twisted in what looked like a bitter smile, "I'm dead. I guess that makes me some sort of ghost." There were a few moments of silence before any of them spoke.

Finally, Ivy spoke up, "First you tell us you're an alien. And now you're saying you're some sort of zombie?"

Zam shook her head, "I don't know how I got here, but I know I'm dead. " She looked away, a visible shudder running through her body, "I remember being killed."

"You look pretty alive to me." Harley said, leaning forward. Ivy could tell she was getting ready to go into psychologist mode, taking in and analyzing whatever the Zam said.

"I don't know how." Zam said, "I know I'm dead, but somehow I ended up here." She looked around with a newfound interest, "It's as if this is the afterlife."

"Do you remember how you were killed?" Harley asked, her hands searching for something to write on, "Or who killed you?"

"It's a long story." Zam said reluctantly.

"I'm listening." Harley said.

Zam hesitated before beginning. "The man I was killed by was called Jango Fett. I guess you could say that we were dating. If you count going out on assassinations together and splitting the bounty as a date."

Ivy cast a meaningful look at Harley, "Oh great.'" She said dryly, "Another Mr. J."

"What?" Zam asked blankly.

"Ignore her." Harley said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Tell me about Jango Fett."

"Jango Fett; Human male, legendary bounty hunter, gallows sense of humor-"

"Wait a second." Ivy interrupted, "A _human_ male? But you aren't a human."

Zam nodded, "No, I'm a Clawdite and Clawdites have the ability to change their appearance. Watch, I'll show you." Ivy and Harley both looked on in amazement as Zam's appearance changed rapidly. The first change was in the general shape of her face. The slits disappeared and her skeletal face became fuller until it was about normal. Her eyes and nose shrunk down to human proportions and the bones and muscles rearranged themselves to form a human shaped head and face. The greenish-gray skin changed into a familiar tan and smoothed to a normal human consistency. All of this and the rest of the transformation took place in the space of a single second. Harley and Ivy stared, stunned at the sudden change. Instead of an alien, a young human woman sat in front of them. She had coppery orange hair, styled into a short spiky pixie. Her eyes were a rare shade of dark forest green. There was a puckish charm to her appearance, like some character from a fairytale. "This is the form I usually took when I was with him." She sighed, her sadness now even more evident on a human face, "I can't believe he killed me." She said.

"Don't worry about it." Ivy said, "If he's like most males, stupidity and insensitivity are to be expected."

Harley shot her an annoyed look before continuing with Zam, "If you two were 'dating,' then why did he kill you?" She asked.

"To protect himself." Zam said heatedly. The next words were spoken with a little less anger, "And to protect his son as well. There were these two Jedi who had been chasing me through the streets. Eventually they caught up to me and cut off my arm. They dragged me into an alley and were interrogating me when I saw Jango looking down at us. I thought he was going to rescue me." She shook her head, "Once the Jedi started asking who I was working for, Jango fired a poisoned saber dart into my neck."

"What's a Jedi?" Ivy asked, "Another type of alien?"

Zam shrugged, "More like a cult. Jedi are people from any number of species who use the Force; I don't know much about it, but it gives them the ability to move objects with their minds and some limited telepathy. They are the 'keepers of peace.' They killed Jango's entire family and then 'unknowingly' had him sold into slavery." Zam sighed. Why was she still feeling sympathy for Jango? He had _killed_ her. '_I hate him.'_ Zam told herself vehemently. She wished she really did hate him. It would be a lot simpler that way. Maybe it would take time for it to sink in.

"Sounds like your typical self-centered male to me." Ivy said. Harley just bit her lip. Ivy knew Zam's story must've hit close to home for Harley, who was dating a criminal of her own.

"Did dying… hurt?" Harley asked, breaking her psychologist's hold.

Zam shook her head, "No. Jango must've used some sort of painless toxin. Just a needle prick in the neck and I was gone."

"So," Ivy started, "If your story is true and you did die… then how did you end up here in Gotham."

"I have no idea." Zam said, "Does stuff like this happen often in 'Gotham?'" Ivy shrugged, "Well, I've never met a zombie alien if that's what you mean. We have 'super heroes,' though."

"Super heroes? Like in kid stories?" Zam asked.

Ivy pondered for a moment before smiling, "They're kind of like your 'Jedi.' They claim to be the keepers of peace… But it rarely works out that way." She gestured at Harley, "My friend Harley and I, we're on the opposite side of these 'heroes.' We've been deemed clinically insane, ostracized, and forced into hiding." Ivy placed her hand theatrically over her heart, her voice mockingly sincere, "All of those heroes, they all say they want justice. So what do they do? They lock us up, the _real_ justice bringers. We're just ordinary folks who want justice in the world." She smirked at her next words, "The heroes just don't understand that death is the best justice there is. No paperwork, no bureaucracy, and definitely no chance of it ever happening again." Ivy grinned, "What more could one ask for?"

Harley burst into applause, "Nice monologue, Red!" She said with a laugh.

"Spoken like a true bounty hunter." Zam added with a small smile.

Ivy gave a dramatic bow, before looking challengingly at Zam. "So, what do you think?" Zam thought for a moment. There had to be a reason she was here. After all, isn't what all the spooks and mystics said? That the dead were sent back to life to complete certain goals? Well, maybe her new life was supposed to be spent as accomplices to these two. After all, what were the chances that fate would place her here, on the toxic doorstep of two other criminals, if the powers that be didn't want her to be a part of it?

"Okay," Zam said, "I'm in."


	2. Metamorphosis

Zam awoke the next morning determined not to dwell on her past life. Her first night in her new universe was fitful and restless. As the enormity of what had happened had dawned on her as she lay in the dark, she had found herself crying, yes _crying_, in the middle of the night. She scolded herself sharply. Why should she miss her old life? She had been a down on her luck bounty hunter whose only friend had ended up killing her to save his own hide. It wasn't like the circumstances were any better in her old life. Still, pointlessly or not, she _missed_ her old life. She missed technology, she missed non-humans, and, as much as she hated to admit it, she missed Jango Fett. She missed visiting him on Kamino and seeing Boba grow. She missed going on hunts with him and the cynical jokes they shared en route to their missions. She even missed his annoying suggestions telling her to be more subtle or change her selection of weapons.

Saying that she missed him didn't mean that she still loved him. His betrayal had kind of thrown a wrench in the whole love business. The knowledge that he had done such a thing was agonizing. A mental debate had kept her awake for hours at a time. _'Selfish barve only thinks of himself.' _ Said one side, '_Forget about him like Ivy told you to.'_

'_He was only protecting his family. It would be selfish to place yourself before his son.' _Argued another.

_ 'If he wanted to save his son he could have gone after the Jedi. He never cared for you and that's why he killed you.'_

_ 'That's not true! If he wanted me gone he could've done it a long time before that.'_

_ 'You were useful to him then. Once you became a risk, he killed you. Face it; you were used.'_

Despite the turbulent discussion within her mind, Zam finally managed to squeeze in a few hours of sleep before awakening in the morning. '_I'm not going to think about my old life.'_ Zam repeated to herself again as she walked around the house, doing her best to concentrate on what she was seeing now, rather then what she had experienced in another life. She glanced around and caught sight of a reflection of herself in a wall mirror. Frowning, she walked over to the mirror and regarded her appearance. She was in her human form, the one that she preferred when working with Jango. She glared at her reflection. She had been wearing this body for far too long. She closed her eyes and visualized a new form. Her face structure changed first, her eyes becoming less rounded and narrower and her features becoming sharper and more refined. Her hair darkened to an inky black and became longer and straighter. She kept the hair short, reaching a few inches above her shoulders. Her eyes changed color from forest green to piercing blue in a matter of moments. A few small adjustments in skin tone and consistency and her metamorphosis was complete. The face that looked back at her was more of a goddess than a fairy.

Finished with her transformation, she turned away from the mirror and sat on the couch, waiting for her accomplices to awaken. There was still mud on her armor and she knew she'd need new clothes soon. It was odd. Even in this universe, mundane little things like that still cropped up.

It wasn't long before Zam heard footsteps approaching followed by a yawn behind her. She turned and saw Harley, now in a crimson nightie staring back at her. The blonde blinked, a thoroughly unsettled look on her face. "You changed." She observed. Zam simply nodded. Harley hesitated momentarily before shrugging and flopping down on the couch beside Zam. "So, what's your name gonna be?" She asked.

Zam tilted her head, "What do you mean? My name is Zam."

Harley giggled, "No, not _that_ name! I mean your alias. You know; I'm Harley Quinn. Red is Poison Ivy. So what's your name gonna be?"

"Uh… I really don't know. How do people normally come up with aliases?"

Harley thought for a moment before answering, "Well, It's gotta be something catchy; you know, with a ring to it. And I guess it should kinda involve something unique about you. I'm Harley Quinn because my gear makes me look like a Harlequin jester. Ivy is Poison Ivy because of her powers." Harley shrugged, "Just use something that describes you, I guess… Start by saying a whole bunch of things and words about yourself. I'll tell you what sounds good." Harley said.

Zam stared pensively at the couch upholstery. "Words to describe myself? Bounty hunter, reckless, Clawdite, changeling, sarcastic…" She felt rather silly trying to come up with an alias, as if she was just some little kid playing pretend, rather than an actual criminal. Then again, in a world where criminals cavorted about in costumes, things were bound to be seen differently.

"Wait, wait." Harley interrupted, "Changeling? That sounds kinda catchy."

"It does have a sort of classy sound, come to think of it." Said a new voice. Both Zam and Harley looked up to see Ivy, already dressed in her signature green attire, "What do you think, Zam?"

Zam shrugged, "It'll take some getting used to, but… I guess it's fine." _Changeling._ Zam wondered if she could ever think of the word as a second name.

"Second order of business," Ivy said, "Is getting you a proper outfit for the job. Any preferences?"

"Uh…" To be honest, Zam didn't want to wear anything like the gaudy costumes that Harley and Ivy wore. They were a bit _too_ eye-catching. "Can't I just wear my armor for jobs?"

"Does it still have mud on it?" Ivy asked.

"Yes." Zam answered.

"Then no." Ivy replied, "Hate to tell you this, but if it's stayed on this long, it's not coming off. The stuff in the swamps is about as ten times as hard to remove as superglue and highly corrosive. You'll be lucky if your armor lasts another week."

"What?" Zam palled, "But…But this is armor! How can a bit of mud ruin it?"

"This isn't normal mud." Ivy explained patiently, "This is mud mixed with the run-off of almost all the factories in Gotham."

"Well, it didn't kill me! How can it eat through my armor if it didn't even affect me."

"If most humans were in your position, they would've died. But we both know you're not human." Zam looked down at her armor. It had been with her even before she had began a career as a bounty hunter and it had protected her from countless injuries that could have been the death of her. It hadn't protected against the final one, though, the one that finally put and end to her life and forced her into this new one. Zam pushed the thoughts from her mind. This armor was just another reminder of what had happened and how. She could do with being rid of it.

"You're right. I guess I do need a new look." She agreed resolutely.

Ivy nodded with approval, "Good. For now, though, I think we should start with breakfast."

%

"Wait, you mean you have _tailors_?" Zam asked incredulously.

Ivy nodded, "As strange as it may seem, most of us do. Harley just nicked hers from a costume shop and some of us make our own. For the most part, though, we have tailors."

"But don't they have some… reservations about making costumes for criminals? Aren't they afraid they'll get in trouble with the law?"

"A hefty paycheck and a good dose of threats can take care of that. Besides, with so many criminals running around Gotham, the police aren't going to waste too much time trying to catch their tailor." Ivy regarded Zam for a moment, "You're going to need something special… Something that can change shape when you do." Ivy noticed the tubes on the abdomen of Zam's original armor, "What are those for?" She asked.

"In case something goes wrong with a transformation and my organs are scrambled, I can still breathe while I figure it out." Zam explained.

"That won't be necessary." Ivy said, "You'll probably only be changing between human forms. And occasionally your original one. That's not a problem, right?" Zam nodded, "Humanoids are pretty easy to shift between."

"It settled then." Ivy said, "Time to get you a new look."

%

The little shop was on the outskirts of the city, nestled among dilapidated apartments and boarded up buildings that were covered with faded layers of graffiti. Ivy's pink convertible looked distinctly out of place parking next to the squat gray building in the middle of this slum. Zam followed Harley and Ivy out of the car anxiously. It wasn't the thought of being in a bad neighborhood that bothered her. She was a bounty hunter and used to working in such streets. The thing was, when she had been on those jobs, everything had been done stealthily and quietly. Standing next to the garishly costumed Harley and Ivy, though, she felt like she was standing next to a giant neon sign that said, 'ARREST ME.' Zam was no fan of overdone subtlety, but why would you wear something that announced your presence whenever you walked into a room? Wasn't part of being a criminal being sneaky about it? "I'm beginning to have second thoughts about this…" Zam mumbled.

"Why?" Ivy asked, "You already said you wanted a new look."

"Well, does my 'new look' have to be quite as… flamboyant as yours?" Zam asked. Ivy rolled her eyes, "Your look can be however you want it to be."

"Just a question," Zam started, "Isn't it difficult sneaking up on somebody when you're wearing such, uh, dramatic clothing?"

Ivy smirked. "Who said anything about sneaking up on somebody?" Seeing Zam's puzzled expression, Ivy continued, "In Gotham, crime isn't just a way to make money. It's a movement. You need notoriety. The good guys need to see you, recognize you, and fear you. Think about that when you're choosing how your costume will look." Zam nodded. This _was_ a backwards little planet.

Ivy knocked sharply on the shop door, the sound seeming to echo in the desolate street. The door opened marginally and Zam caught a glimpse of somebody staring out at them. Suddenly, the door opened and they were hastily motioned in. The trio entered and Zam finally got a good look at their host. The little old man was surprisingly dapper for somebody who lived in these parts. Then again, what was to be expected of a tailor?

"Hello Ivy." The man greeted nervously, "Has your costume been meeting your expectations?"

Ivy ignored the question, "We need a new costume." She said, bluntly gesturing at Zam with her thumb, "New girl."

The tailor looked apprehensively over at Zam. "Might I inquire to your powers, Ms…?"

"Changeling." Zam answered after a moment's hesitation, "My power is shape shifting.

"Give him a demo." Ivy ordered, "So he doesn't get your type of shape shifting confused with Beastie Boy or whatever his name is." Zam hesitated, unsure of who to shift into. She smiled slightly as she made up her mind. Her hair became long and orange-red, her face took on Ivy's features, and her body shifted to match her shape. Ivy looked startled for a moment as she stared at a mirror copy of herself.

Harley clapped excitedly. "Me next! Me next!" She squealed. Zam smiled indulgently as she changed yet again, now into Harley's form, complete with the white face paint and black mask coloring around her eyes. Harley grinned, "Wow, I really_ am_ as pretty as everybody says!" She laughed. Zam felt strangely proud as she shifted back into her now normal human form.

"She'll need something that changes shape as she does." Ivy told the tailor, "It doesn't have to be fancy, but it has to be flexible."

"Do you want it to look anything like what you're wearing now?" The tailor asked Zam.

Zam faltered for a moment. "No." She said decisively, "Different is better."

The tailor nodded, "Any color preference?" He asked. Zam shrugged, "Anything is fine." The tailor nodded, "I'll just need your measurements and I can start right away."

"How long will it take?" Ivy asked.

"Two days." The tailor replied uneasily. Ivy narrowed her eyes. "I'll have it done tomorrow morning." The tailor said quickly.

"Good." Ivy said, "And that's when we'll pay you."

%

After the fitting, Harley and Ivy dropped Zam off at the house so they could go pull off a heist. "Why can't I go with you?" Zam asked, staring forlornly at the duo from the porch.

"You don't have a costume yet." Ivy answered, "Your first day out should be about establishing a persona and you can't do that if you are going to change costumes the next day." She smiled, her voice gentler now, "Don't worry. We'll set the stage for you." With that, the duo sped off towards the city, leaving Zam to wonder what Ivy had meant by that parting comment.

%

By the end of the day, Zam didn't have to wonder anymore. Zam was idly watching a soap opera on a television, which was a much more boring form of a holoprojector when Harley burst in, followed by Ivy. Harley snatched the remote from Zam and changed the channel to the news. "Hey!" Zam protested, "I was sort of watching that!"

"Shhh!" Harley shushed, "Listen to this!" Zam watched as the newscaster spoke gravely through the television.

"A string of burglaries was reported to be the fault of infamous crime duo, Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, provoking widespread fear and anger among Gotham citizens. One witness managed to shoot this short clip of a holdup with his digital camera." A window of grainy footage appeared on screen, showing Harley and Ivy speaking to the assorted group of frightened onlookers.

"Things are going to be changing around here." Ivy spoke, her voice distorted by the poor quality camera, "Tomorrow, fear will have a new face. Or, shall I say, faces?" Ivy looked directly at the camera, a wicked smile on her face. There was the sound of somebody fumbling with the camera, before the recording stopped. Zam smiled. Ivy hadn't been lying when she said she'd set the stage for her.

The screen switched back to the reporter, who continued on, "City officials have responded by saying that they refuse to be intimidated by such threats and urge citizens to keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior. There has been no word on whether the vigilante hero Batman has heard about-" The TV was abruptly turned off with derisive speed.

Zam frowned. "Who's Batman?" She asked, "Is he one of those super-heroes you were talking about the other day?"

"One of the worst." Ivy confirmed, frowning fiercely.

"He's bagged almost every criminal in the city at least once." Harley added resentfully, "We were both been sent to Arkham Asylum because of him."

"Any chance that I'll have to meet him?" Zam asked apprehensively. Harley and Ivy both exchanged looks.

"Don't worry." Ivy said, "If you end up in Arkham, we'll bust you out." She gave her a reassuring smile. Still, Zam wasn't so sure she felt as ready as she had a few hours earlier.

%

This next day when they pulled up to the tailor's shop, Zam no longer felt the same nagging anxiety that she had the day before. Now, she was simply excited in a strange mix of happiness and nervousness. She knew that this last step would complete her transformation from Zam Wesell to Changeling. The trio walked up to the door. This time, Ivy didn't even have to knock. The door opened and they were quickly ushered inside.

"I have to say, I'm quite pleased with my work." The tailor said as he walked across the room to paw through various costumes and suits. With a final shuffle, he found what he was looking for, "Here it is!" He said, pulling it out with a flourish. The bundle was thrust into Zam's hands. The azure fabric shimmered in the light, in one view looking ocean blue and in another, looking almost black.

"Oh, go try it on!" Harley said excitedly, "I wanna see how it looks!"

"There's changing rooms down the hall." The tailor said, motioning to a short corridor with a door at the end. Zam walked through the hall and disappeared behind the door. The room at the end had a small collection of stalls, each with a collection of mirrors inside. Zam changed quickly, wasting no time. When she was done, she took a look at herself in the mirror.

The costume was stunning. It wasn't skin tight and shiny like Ivy and Harley's costumes. Instead, the azure fabric clung gently at the joints while moving naturally at other points. A band of tougher fabric wrapped around her waist, fastened in place by a belt. The tougher fabric continued from her waist to just above her thighs, looking almost like a skirt. Her entire body was concealed by the suit, except for her face. Zam felt something behind the neck and reached back to find a fold of fabric. She tugged at it and discovered it was a hood. She pulled it over her head. The dark fabric concealed most of the upper portion of her face, but was sheer enough that she could still see through it. Zam smiled. The suit gave her an enigmatic aura; something quite appropriate for somebody who was what some might call a ghost. A quick look to make sure everything was in place and Zam walked out of the dressing room.

Almost immediately after Zam emerged from the dressing room, the tailor began boasting of its features, "The costume is mostly made of a special fabric. I used the same stuff to tailor a suit for the chap that had the power to extend his arms and legs to almost infinite lengths. The fabric around the waist is also very supple and also provides a shock-absorbing element. The power of physical blows are very much reduced and it slows down blades and bullets considerably. The whole costume is flame-retardant and water-proof, as is the standard with my designs." The tailor added proudly.

"It looks great!" Harley exclaimed, "I'm beginning to think I shoulda gotten something custom-made."

Ivy already had the money in her hand, "Here's your pay." She said, handing it to the tailor, "Courtesy of the banks of Gotham." The tailor ignored the last comment and busied himself with eagerly counting the bills.

"A pleasure doing business with you." He said, "You know where to come if you ever need another costume."

"Yeah, yeah, don't push it." Ivy said dismissively, "C'mon Changeling. We got a day of exploding things ahead of us." Zam smiled as she followed Harley ad Ivy out of the shop. She could get used to being Changeling.


	3. Destiny's Warning

Waking up in a jail cell with a pounding headache and no memory of how you got there was a usual sign that you were in for a bad day. Waking up in a jail cell with a pounding headache, no memory of how you got there, _and_ being unable to move annihilated any hope for otherwise.

Jango Fett counted the minutes ticking by, doing his best to stay conscious as his body slowly regained movement. The minutes eventually crawled into an hour as Jango waited impatiently for his limbs to start reacting. Eventually, the worst of the paralysis began to fade and Jango knew he was mobile. He was almost reluctant to look around, should his circumstances be even worse than previously thought. That train of thought didn't last too long, though. Jango couldn't stand inaction for any extended amount of time. He opened his eyes and eased off the hard cot, noticing for the first time that, besides his helmet, his armor was still on. Why would a prison keep armor on somebody they were trying to hold in?

"Rough night out, huh?"

Jango whirled around unsteadily to see a policeman, sitting at a desk on the other side of the metal bars, regarding him curiously. "I found you passed out on the outskirts when I was out on patrol. Not a good idea to get that wasted in Gotham." The policeman wagged a finger at him as if he were a naughty child, before continuing, "Anyways, sorry for the whole thing with the cage, but anybody wearing a costume has to be identified and documented before they're allowed out on the streets. Seems like kind of a stupid rule to outsiders, but with all the villains out there running amok, it's better safe than sorry."

Jango nodded, even though he didn't understand. Gotham wasn't a planet he'd ever heard of and he didn't know why this man referred to his armor as a 'costume.' "When can I leave?" He asked evenly.

The policeman smiled, "It shouldn't be too long now. We've checked with Arkham and nobody in their records matches your description. All that's needed now is for some superhero to swoop in and give us the okay to let you out. That superhero will probably end up being Batman, as usual." The policeman frowned, "Hopefully he won't be too busy chasing that new Changeling gal."

"Batman?" Jango repeated. The name would have been funny if he had been in a better mood. Right now, Jango just wanted to get out of this cell and get the kriff off this unknown planet.

"Don't tell me you don't know who Batman is!" The policeman exclaimed, "Geez, did you just wake up from a coma or something?" Jango glared venomously at the policeman, who continued, nonplussed, "Everybody's heard of Batman! You know, the Caped Crusader of Gotham? The Dark Knight? Batsy?"

"Instead of giving me a list of ridiculous names, why don't you just tell me who he is?" Jango hissed. He was not in the mood to be patronized right now and messing with a riled Jango Fett was about as good as an idea as poking a grumpy nexu with a sharp stick.

The policeman looked momentarily alarmed by the change in Jango's formerly calm demeanor before continuing in a less jovial tone, "Batman is a vigilante law enforcer. High tech gear, bat mask, cape… He's been trying to clean up Gotham for a while now. He's quite well known. I've never met anybody who hasn't heard of him."

"Thank you." Jango said, his tone only slightly less acidic, "You said that this 'Batman' has been busy chasing somebody called Changeling. I suppose this means I should expect a delay in my release?"

The policeman squirmed. He knew he had no reason to be unnerved. The man was on the other side of reinforced steel bars. "Well, I suppose if another superhero came in and confirmed that you weren't a known villain you could be released…"

Jango nodded, "And you should know that this isn't a 'costume.'" He said, "It's actual armor." He knocked on one of the shoulder pads with his knuckles, creating a definitely solid sound.

The policeman swallowed, "Costume is just a generic term that we use to describe attire that isn't, ah…. Normal."

"Never seen Mandalorian armor then?" Jango asked.

"Mandalorian?" The policeman repeated blankly, "Does that mean it's from Malaysia or something?"

"No, that means it's from Mandalore." Upon seeing the policeman's puzzled expression, Jango continued, "It's a planet. It has an entire sector named after it."

The policeman regarded the armor doubtfully, "So… your armor is from another planet?"

"Yes. If I'm being put in jail for wearing it than I'm assuming it isn't that popular here." Jango didn't even know why he was still talking to this nuisance, who was proving to be quite unhelpful.

"Uh-huh." The policeman said uncomfortably, "Excuse me, I'm just gonna go make a phone call..." He said, walking briskly away from the cell with every intent to call Arkham Asylum and tell them to get this lunatic out of his police station. Suddenly, the man halted in mid-step, a strange look of emptiness clouding his features. Jango watched as he slowly turned and walked mechanically back towards the cell. The man lurched forward, now leaning heavily against the bars.

"Are you alright?" Jango asked, startled.

The voice that answered him sounded nothing like the voice the man had spoken earlier. This one was tired and unspeakably old, yet somehow, confident. Knowing. "You are unwritten." The man said, his face entirely without emotion.

Jango fought back a shudder, "What do you mean?" He asked, "What's the matter with you?"

The policeman stared back soullessly before continuing, "You don't belong here, Jango Fett. This is not your place."

"How do you know my name?" Jango demanded. The man continued as if he'd never even spoken.

"You are being given a second chance. An end has been prepared for you, but you alone must find it."

"What are you talking about?" Jango asked, growing frustrated at the cryptic answers, "What do you mean by 'an end has been prepared?' Do you mean something is going to try and kill me?"

"I, Destiny, have decreed it so." The voice was imperious now, "All beings must find their end."

"Tell me what you want." Jango ordered, "Tell me or your just wasting my time with riddles."

"'In your triumph die.' That is what I ask for. I may not speak more of what is unwritten." The man suddenly staggered away, "You don't belong here." The voice was quieter now, fainter, "You don't belong here."

Then, as quickly as it had come, the voice disappeared. The policeman's face remained blank for a few moments, before human expression returned. He looked around confusedly, then back at Jango as if he had only just seen him. "Oh, hello." He greeted uncertainly. His voice was now back to normal, "I was, uh… I mean, I thought I…" He looked around again, "What was I just doing?"

Jango looked incredulously at the man, "You mean you don't remember?"

"Well, I mean… There's just this blank in my mind." The man shook his head, "What was I about to do?"

Seeing an opportunity, Jango answered, "You were about to let me go. Remember? Batman came by and confirmed I wasn't a villain. I'm surprised you don't remember."

"Did he? I, uh…. I suppose I'll let you out then." In a daze, the man walked forward and removed a ring of keys from his belt. '_Old fashioned.' _Jango noticed. The door to the cell slid open and Jango walked out, keeping an eye on the policeman, should he suddenly snap out of his forgetful confusion.

"Where's my helmet?" Jango asked.

"Helmet?" The policeman repeated, dumbfounded, "Oh right." He mumbled and shuffled around a corner, before turning and tossing Jango's helmet back to him. Jango caught it and turned it over in his hands. There was no damage he could see and it didn't look like it had been tampered with.

"Thanks." He said, before heading for the exit. The policeman gave him a bewildered wave as he disappeared out the door.

'Destiny' hadn't been lying when he said that Jango didn't belong here. The first thing that Jango noticed was the absolute lack of speeders or spacecrafts in the sky. The only vehicle that he could see being used was an earthbound-wheeled vehicle that trundled along the paved streets and the only means of transport he could see in the skies were occasional atmosphere-bound crafts.

Jango did his best to remain as inconspicuous as he could in the daylight as he walked away from the police station, but even so, his armor drew stares from everyone he passed. One of them pulled out his cell phone and started dialing. Jango frowned. If one of them dialed the police, he'd end up in the same situation all over again. After his bizarre encounter with the first police officer he'd met in this place, he didn't savor the idea of meeting another law enforcement official. At his first opportunity, he ducked into a shadowy alley. He made sure he was out of view from anybody who happened to pass before he let himself stop and think.

How had he gotten here? He didn't remember flying here. He put on his helmet and let the comforting lights of the operating system flicker to life. A few coordinated blinks later and he was in command. The first thing he did was to attempt to make contact with Slave I. If he had his ship, he could leave this strange planet and act like none of it had ever happened. There were a few moments of nothing before a message appeared on the heads up display. '_SIGNAL LOST.' _ Jango stared at the HUD dispiritedly. Was it possible that there was some sort of communications jammer on the planet somewhere? He accessed further data on the signal status. _'SIGNAL LOST: UNABLE TO LOCATE SIGNAL RECIEVER.' _

That was very odd. If Slave I was out of range, that meant that it probably hadn't been the ship that had brought him here. The next thing Jango did was to try and contact somebody through his comlink. The result of this was equally disheartening. '_COMLINK NETWORK UNAVAILABLE' _was the only message he could get from the HUD.

Jango pulled off his helmet, frustrated. He just wished he could remember how he got here. He closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts. What was the last thing he could remember? He remembered everything up to Geonosis. The last thing he could remember was arriving on the desert planet with Boba. That pair of Jedi, the same duo that had been on Coruscant, had pursued them there, the same ones who had dragged Zam into an alley for interrogation and- Jango stopped. This was no time to distract himself with those memories. He forced himself to skip over that scene and onto what had happened next. Geonosis. He had arrived there with Boba, thinking that they had escaped the Jedi… What had happened after that? He searched through his mind for the missing memories.

_Jedi, asteroid field, Geonosis, executions._ Jango opened his eyes. He hadn't remembered the executions the first time. A strange lightheadedness came over him as he closed his eyes and searched his mind again for more information. _Execution, arena, prisoners._ Like water bursting from a damaged floodgate, more images spilled out. _Prisoners, reinforcements, battle._ Jango leaned heavily against the wall as his own death played behind his eyelids. It was a while before he opened his eyes again.

Jango walked numbly through the alley, unsure of where he was going but at the same time, not really caring. He had died. He was sure of that. He had remembered the Jedi advancing, closer and closer, until that final sweep of his lightsaber. Triggered by the vivid memory, Jango's hand unthinkingly brushed against his neck. He had been decapitated yet here he was, in one piece. Was this some sort of afterlife?

He desperately wanted to know what had happened to his son. The last he had seen, he had been in the stands, watching the spectacle of execution before him. Poor child. He had lost both Zam and his father in a matter of days. What was he going to do now? There was nobody for him to go to on Geonosis. What if the Jedi had found him? They would treat him the same way they treated Jango. They would hand him over to somebody, anybody, even if that somebody happened to be a slave trader as they had been with Jango. All the sacrifices that Jango had made to prevent that from happening, the training, the secrecy, Zam's death; all of that would have been in vain if the Jedi found Boba.

Jango stopped walking. He couldn't afford to think about these things anymore. There would be time for mourning later, but right now, he needed to figure out what was going on. _'All beings must find their end.'_ When Destiny had said that the first time, Jango had thought it had been talking about death. Was it even possible for a dead man to die again? '_In your triumph die.'_ That had been Destiny's request when Jango had asked him what he wanted. Did that mean he wasn't dead yet?

"Put your hands where I can see 'em."

Jango found himself shaken out of his thoughts as he stared down the barrel of a gun pointing between his eyes. He cursed himself as he put his hands by the sides of his head. He had been taken off guard.

The man behind the gun looked Jango over, "If you want to live, hand over your cash and valuables."

A common mugger. This shouldn't be too hard. Jango slowly lowered one of his hands, pretending to search for credit chips in one of his belt pockets.

The mugger watched his hand anxiously, "What the hell are you wearing?" He asked, seeming to notice the armor for the first time.

Jango didn't respond. Instead, he used his other hand to grab the mugger's wrist and twist powerfully to the side. The mugger cried out in pain and surprise, his gun clattering to the ground. Jango used his free hand to land a punch on the mugger's temple. The man fell backwards before slumping limply to the ground, out cold.

Jango approached the downed man, wary for any sign of movement. Upon closer inspection, Jango saw the man was carrying a backpack. Jango removed it from his shoulders and opened it carefully. A few baubles and jewelry were scattered around the interior as well as some sort of slips of paper. Jango didn't care about the jewelry. It was probably stolen from somebody before him. Instead, Jango pulled out the slips of paper and held them to the faint light. They were green and had pictures of faces and numbers on them. It was obvious that they were some kind of currency. Jango regarded the bills thoughtfully. Paper money, land vehicles, no comlink networks… this civilization was archaic, outdated.

Jango stuffed the bills in one of his belt pouches. The first thing he had to worry about was his armor. He needed something he could wear without worrying about standing out among the local populace. He left the alley, leaving the mugger where he lay on the ground. As he stepped back onto the mainstreet, the first thing he did was try and spot a store where they sold clothing. He didn't know if the money he had stolen from the mugger was enough, but he had to at least try. He walked past a couple of blocks, drawing plenty of stares until he found what seemed to be a clothing shop. He quickly ducked inside.

%

A few minutes later, Jango emerged from the shop, now clothed in a plain dark blue t-shirt, denim trousers, and gray sneakers. His armor was concealed in a backpack now carried on his shoulders and he noticed with some satisfaction that now, nobody gave him a second glance as he walked by. _What now?_ He wondered. He took out and counted his remaining bills. He'd need more currency soon if he planned on staying here. What could he do, though? Being confined to a single planet significantly cut down the chances of being employed. Normally, he would root around in Coruscant's lower levels for a job that needed doing. It wasn't too hard to find somebody who was holding a grudge and wanted revenge in what many beings referred to as the 'Underworld.' Here? He wasn't quite sure.

Jango roamed aimlessly for a while longer. He hated stagnating like this, wandering around without a job or home like a common beggar. Tired and frustrated, he pulled away from the main path, hoping to collect his thoughts somewhere quieter. He didn't go into an ally this time He had learned his lesson the first time around. Instead he walked into what seemed to be a sparsely populated diner. He wasn't hungry, but he appreciated the lessened noise.

Jango sat down at one of the barstools, avoiding the light hubbub of the booths.

"Can I get you anything?" Jango looked up at a portly waiter behind the counter, "I can't serve you any drinks this early, but you can choose from out brunch menu if you'd like… Excuse me? Are you listening?"

Jango wasn't listening. He was staring at what was behind the bartender, a myriad of familiar and welcome sights; wanted posters.

"_Excuse me, _sir_."_ The waiter said, louder now.

Jango looked up, "I'm not ordering anything, thank you." He answered, "Is it okay if I get a closer look at those wanted posters?" Jango's words were courteous, but his tone said he wasn't planning on taking no as an answer.

The waiter hesitated, but only briefly, "Certainly." He said, turning and removing the posters from the wall and handing them to Jango, before hastily going to tend to the other customers.

Jango flipped through the posters. Each of them had a different name and picture for various fugitives, but they all had the same block of text at the bottom:

'_ATTENTION CITIZENS OF GOTHAM: The Gotham City Law Enforcement Agency is searching for recruits! Any able-bodied and willing person of reasonable standing may join our crusade against crime. Those who choose to fight for the safety and security of Gotham will receive considerable salaries for the capture of outlaws who wish to bring chaos and destruction to our city. For more information, please report to the nearest police station and ask about a job as a paid protector of Gotham.'_

The block of text ended there. So, the city was basically looking for mercenaries. Jango couldn't help but smile. Even in another life, people still needed other people dead. He looked through the posters once again. Almost all of the fugitives in the pictures were wearing some sort of costume, the majority of which looked ridiculously impractical. How would wearing skin-tight spandex protect you against an enemy strike? Jango shook his head. No wonder the police had been suspicious of costumes. He couldn't blame them if all of their criminals indulged in such attire. Looking through the various pictures, he couldn't help but stop and stare at one of them.

The picture was actually of three fugitives all in the same shot. They were all human females, with two of them dressed in the typical skin-tight outfits, one in a leaf green one and the other in a gaudy pattern of red and black. One of them stood out, though. This one's costume was distinct for the simple fact that it _wasn't_ crazy. Instead of bright, burning hues that seemed to be popular among the others, this one's costume was a deep shade of blue. A hood obscured the outlaw's face, so that only her enigmatic smile was completely visible. Even with her face veiled, she was beautiful, but that's not what drew Jango to her image. For some reason, she looked familiar. Jango knew it was impossible. Besides the impossibility of meeting somebody from his old life, he could tell that she looked like nobody he had ever met. Yet somehow, that smile, that mysterious smile looked almost… Jango shook himself from his thoughts. All of this osik about destiny and the afterlife was getting to him. He was letting himself delude his mind into seeing familiarity everywhere. He folded up the paper and put it in his backpack along with his armor before quietly leaving the diner.

It was well into the evening by the time Jango paid another visit to the police station. He wanted to wait long enough to ensure that the first officer he met was off duty by the time he returned. He quickly noted that his plan was successful as he walked through the door into the station. A different police officer now sat where the previous one had sat in the morning. He looked over as Jango walked in. "Can I help you?" He asked, watching Jango guardedly.

Jango nodded, taking the poster out of his backpack and handing it to the officer, "I saw the wanted posters. I'm interested."


	4. Fortune's Fool

**((Just a quick note to anybody who was confused by Destiny and his visit to Jango; Destiny is a canon character of the DC universe, who is basically something like a god. He controls the fate of the people in the DC world and is one of the Endless Ones, a group of similarly divine entities. I just wanted to include this so people don't think I just randomly created an crazy OC for that scene. Another one of the Endless Ones is going to make an appearance later, so stay on your toes :3))**

'_So this is what it's like being a clone.'_ Jango thought wryly, sitting on a bench at the police station along with two-dozen other men dressed in the exact same uniforms and masks. The sergeant had explained to them that while most villains tended to fight among themselves, they would still make you a target if you were responsible for the capture of their own. "The last place you wanna be is on the hit list of a villain. They're crazy, but they're also damn clever bastards." The sergeant had said, with an air of experience, "You don't want them to know your name, your address, or your face. That's why you all have been outfitted with identical uniforms and masks. Anonymity will protect you."

Jango didn't mind the uniform too much. He was sure his armor would be much more efficient than the black army style coveralls they'd been given and his helmet would be a welcome replacement for the steel mask currently covering his face, but at least he was employed. Besides, after being the template for the clone army, seeing men who looked just like you wasn't that unsettling.

"First order of business," The sergeant started, gesturing to a row of police officers who held various objects in their hands, "Is getting to know the enemy. Now I know that it may seem like a bunch of psychological voodoo, but the first step to defeating an enemy is to know them. Seeing as we can't exactly talk to these psychos, we'll have to settle with the next best thing; their belongings." At this, the policemen set what items they had been carrying on the table.

"Each item has been labeled with the alias of its former owner." Said one of the policemen, "You've all been assigned a villain to try and analyze based on their belongings. Find which items belong to them and try to figure out something about them." With that, he stepped aside and let the men walk up and find the item that corresponded with their assigned villain. Jango had been assigned Harley Quinn. She was one of the villains on the wanted poster he had brought in, the one that dressed in an exuberant red and black costume.

Jango looked over the objects on the table, looking for something that belonged to her. He really didn't need to be doing this. He wanted to get a move on and actually _do_ something, not waste time trying to psychoanalyze his prey with this petty exercise. Still, he didn't complain as he found a tattered notebook labeled with the name 'Harley Quinn' and retook his seat on the bench.

Jango opened to the first page. The name 'Dr. Harleen Quinzel' was written neatly in the upped left hand corner followed by a label that read 'Patient Notes.' The first few pages were filled with prim, tidy notes regarding complex psychological terminology and diagnoses. Jango flipped through the book. He noticed that the writing became messier and more erratic towards the end. He flipped to the last few pages to find them filled with a chaotic amalgamation of doodles and quotes. He focused in on the quotes. Almost every single quotation ended with a footnote that referenced some unknown piece of writing called 'Romeo and Juliet' and each one was relating to something to do with love.

'_A hopeless romantic, no doubt._' Jango noted, flipping through a few more pages. He stopped on a page with a rather large picture of what looked like a fiery explosion, with the bodies of stick figures strewn across the margins. Jango was suitably amused by the crude drawing until the quote that was written above it stopped him in his tracks.

"_These violent delights have violent ends_

_And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,_

_Which, as they kiss, consume."_

_-Romeo and Juliet_

Jango reread the quote. '_And in their triumph die…'_ Jango remembered his conversation with Destiny. When he had asked him what he was to do, Destiny had told him, _'In your triumph die.' _Had Destiny deliberately used the same wording as this quote? Could it have been coincidence? Coming from a being that claimed to be Destiny, it wasn't likely. If it had been quoted intentionally, then what did it mean? '_And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume." _Jango didn't like the ominous sound of that. Before he let himself jump to conclusions, he let himself try and figure out as much as he could with the given information. If the quote came from the same piece of literature that the other ones had, then it was more than likely about love. Why would Destiny order him to die while simultaneously quoting what seemed to be a romance?

"That's enough time!" The sergeant said, clasping his hands behind his back, "Return the items to the table and let's see what you figured out." Jango obeyed, his mind still elsewhere as he placed the book back on the table. He had learned some new things about Harley Quinn, but he somehow felt that he had probably just learned a lot more about something much more important.

%

The recruits spent the next day at the firing ranges as the sergeant walked up and down the lines, checking on their progress. Jango quickly realized that the weapons here were not like blasters. Instead of firing bolts of energy, these guns fired small metal projectiles. Fortunately, they functioned much like blasters and it didn't take Jango too long to master their use. The sergeant noticed. At the end of the day, he pulled Jango aside. "You've definitely got some skill in sharpshooting." The sergeant said, regarding Jango carefully, "Got any experience in the military?"

Jango simply nodded, his face as emotionless as ever.

The sergeant nodded as well, "Good, good." He murmured, almost to himself, "What about a family? You got a wife and kids or something?"

Jango forced himself to remain expressionless, "I had a girlfriend and I have a son." In his own universe, he wouldn't have given the information so freely, but what did it matter here? It's not like either of them could get hurt anymore than they already had.

"Had? Well, what happened to her?" The sergeant asked.

"Killed in the line of duty." Jango answered. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it somehow stung as he spoke it. He wished he hadn't spoken it at all.

"Sorry to hear that." The sergeant said, "And your son? Is he in Gotham?"

"No. He's living far away." Jango replied.

The sergeant nodded, "That's probably a good idea. Gotham's not the safest place for kids." The sergeant took a deep breath before continuing, "Listen, you've heard of Batman, right?" He didn't even give Jango a moment to respond before continuing, "Well, with the influx of new villains, I think it's safe to say that he could use a hand. I'm trying to assemble a group to help him out; a group of men who can give him backup when he's in a fix, you know?"

Jango nodded, "Why would I be interested?" He asked evenly.

"You're one of the best marksman I've seen here. You have military experience and we don't have to worry about your family getting hurt." He mistook Jango's averted eyes for disinterest, "And the men that join this group will make significantly more money than the others." He added.

Jango looked up slowly. "I'll consider it." He said, though his tone said he'd already decided to join.

The sergeant smiled, "Very good. If you're going to join, it would probably be convenient if I knew your name."

Jango hesitated, but only momentarily, "My name is Jango Fett."

%

The following day, Jango didn't go to the police station. Instead, he met with the sergeant and the other men in the warehouse specified the previous day. It was early in the morning and the inside of the abandoned warehouse was still dim. There were four other men besides Jango and they were all wearing the same black uniform and steel masks. The sergeant was the only one who's face remained unconcealed. He looked down at his wristwatch, "He should be here any second now." He muttered. As if on cue, Jango heard the faint sound of fluttering cloth. There was a tense silence that was followed by a soft thud and then footsteps. Out of the shadows, a being that must've been Batman appeared. Jango smirked. He was dressed like a particularly eccentric Sith with a flowing black cape and a bizarre black mask with small ear-like protrusions at the corners.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance." The sergeant said with a small smile.

"Mercenaries. You brought me mercenaries." The man spoke in a gruff voice that sounded less than pleased.

"You said you wanted help. And now you have it." The sergeant replied calmly.

"I said I wanted help, not criminals." Batman replied tersely.

"Criminals?" One of the other mercenaries spoke up, "_You're_ the one on the wanted posters, not us."

Batman turned and walked away, his black cape making the whole thing quite dramatic, "I don't work with mercenaries. Forget it."

"Prima donna." Jango muttered. The other mercenaries snickered. The sergeant shot them all a glare before walking after Batman, "Hey, just give it a try. If it doesn't work out then there are no hard feelings. They might even help you bag some of those crazies!"

Batman turned slowly back to the group. His broad shoulders seemed to sag for a moment. "If the city wasn't in this mess I wouldn't even consider this." He said. He glared up at the mercenaries as if they were personally responsible, "I'll work with you all, but I have some conditions. First off, I don't want any civilians to be harmed. I don't care if it means you don't catch your quarry, if there are civilians at risk, make their safety your priority." Jango listened silently. He hated that preaching tone that permeated the other man's speech, but he kept his annoyance to himself. After all, he wanted to be paid. "Second, I only want villains to be taken alive." Batman continued, "It may seem easier to just kill them, but taking them alive means we can get access to information about the plans of other villains and potentially save lives. My last condition is that if there is a situation where it's me against one of them, do _not_ get in my way." The tone of his voice indicated that this had happened before and the results had not been agreeable.

The sergeant looked back to the group, "You boys accept the conditions?"

One by one, they all grumbled their agreement.

"It's settled then." The sergeant sighed with relief.

"When do we start our first job?" Jango asked.

The sergeant gave him a grim smile, "Tonight."

%

Jango looked over the notes for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. Their first targets were beginning to be familiar faces to Jango. They were the same villains that had been on the wanted poster he had taken to the police station and one of them was the Harley Quinn he had been assigned to analyze in training.

The three females in the group were Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, and Changeling. Poison Ivy used to be known as Pamela Isley before her transformation into a villain. The range of her powers were unknown, though it was known for a fact that she was immune to almost all botanical poisons and she could secrete a deadly cocktail of plant poison from her lips. The second was Harley Quinn. Harley Quinn used to be Dr. Harleen Quinzel, a promising young psychologist who became a villain when she fell in love with one of her patients, a notorious villain known as The Joker. Quinn was known for her strength and agility, some of which was her own and some of which were various biological enhancements given to her by Poison Ivy. Changeling was an enigma with no history, name, or known relationships outside Ivy and Quinn. Her power was the ability to shape shift.

It was the similarities between her and Zam that bothered Jango. Both women had the same powers and 'changeling' was the official name for beings with the ability to shape shift in Jango's universe as well as this one. It was an unfortunate coincidence that the one he was supposed to arrest could stir such volatile memories. Such connections could jeopardize a hunt. Jango shook his head to clear his thoughts. There was no time to dwell on such things. His first job was about to start and he needed to help capture the trio, regardless if one of them reminded him of a former flame.

He put down the notes and walked up to the other mercenaries who were busy going over the plan. "Okay, so according to Batman, there's reason to believe that our targets will be attempting to burglarize a local museum." A mercenary was explaining, "It's got lots of priceless artifacts for Quinn and Changeling and a whole lab full of rare plant specimens for Ivy. There's going be an increased number of guards on watch to give us some back up, while we'll be placed in different wings to engage the targets should they try and take anything. Batman is going to be on the offensive, so the ideal plan is for the targets to be cornered between him and one of us. Pretty basic, if you ask me."

"Yeah, except we gotta catch those crazies alive." Another mercenary grumbled, "It would be much easier if we could just shoot to kill."

"You know the drill." Said another, "Just don't get trigger happy and everything will work out fine."

Jango looked down at his own gun. The inelegant pistol wasn't as good as a blaster, but it would have to do.

"Time to go!" The sergeant was only recognizable by his voice, since he now wore a mask identical to the one Jango and the other mercenaries were wearing, "We need to set up at the museum and we need to do it _quietly_. This might be the only time Batman will trust us enough to actually work with him and I don't want anybody doing anything stupid to mess this up." He turned sharply and motioned the others to follow. Jango took a deep breath. He couldn't be bothered with whether or not his prey reminded him of somebody he had loved in a former life. He blocked out his subconscious's disquiet, telling himself that he couldn't change the past and that he couldn't hurt anybody more than he already had.

It was just a job.


	5. Unveiled

**((Sorry for the shortness of this chapter! I never was very good at writing action scenes… Don't worry, hopefully the intensity of the next chapter will make up for the lack of length in this one :D))**

Having a psychologist as a friend definitely had its advantages, Zam decided as she recounted her dream to Harley, who was listening intently. "I've already had the dream a few times since I got here and it's always the same." She confided, "It's starting to weird me out. Each time I have the dream, I'm always just floating in the middle of nowhere and there's always this weird man there who says his name is Dream. When I ask him what he wants, he says he is sending a message for Destiny."

"What does he say is in the message?" Harley asked, scribbling notes on a notepad as she listened.

"You'll think I'm crazy if I tell you." Zam said with a nervous chuckle.

Harley grinned, "Then we'll have something else to bond over." She said, waving her hand as a signal for Zam to continue.

"Well," Zam started, staring down at her feet, "He tells me that I need to die. It's not like a threat or anything. He says I need to die triumphantly or something strange like that. And when I ask what he means, he just gives me all these cryptic answers. He says that I don't belong here and that I am 'unwritten.' And when I ask why I need to die, he says I'm being given a second chance to 'find an end.' And whenever I ask anything else, he says that he is only a messenger for Destiny and that I shouldn't know anything more." Zam sighed, "I hate that he won't give me any straight answers. I'm pretty sure this is the only time I've ever gotten this frustrated over a dream."

After an age of scribbling, Harley put her pen down and looked at Zam, "Well, you can look at this two ways: One, you can believe the spiritual hoodoo explanation, that this Dream guy is real and you do actually need to die. Or, you can believe the psychological explanation, which is that the stress from what you've been through has given you the subconscious need to put your fate and responsibility in another's hands, namely the hands of 'Destiny.'"

Zam paused before asking, "Well, what do you believe?"

Harley giggled, "I dunno. You shouldn't ask a certified mental patient about what you should believe, now should you?"

Zam smiled and was about to thank Harley for listening to her prattle on about a weird dream, when Ivy walked in and interrupted. "We've got another heist planned. Get ready."

Zam instantly listened up. The trio had pulled a number of successful heists during the few days they had been together and each one had given Zam an enjoyable adrenaline rush. It had all the thrill of the hunt without as much blood. "Where are we going this time? Another bank?" She asked eagerly.

"Not this time," Ivy said, "This time, we're going after a museum."

"A museum?" Zam repeated, "What are we going to steal?"

"Whatever looks valuable. Artifacts are always a good bet, especially if they're gold. I'll probably go to the labs to see if I can snatch some rare plants or experimental toxins."

"What about jewelry?" Harley asked eagerly, "I hear they have an exhibit about diamonds through the ages." She looked away, a distant grin on her face as she imagined the priceless stones.

"Of course you can take the jewelry. Don't get too attached, though." She warned, "We'll have to sell it soon enough." Harley didn't seem to be listening and was already humming 'Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend' under her breath as she walked away.

%

It was dark by the time they arrived at the museum, their getaway car concealed at the back of the building. Harley expertly overrode the electronic lock on the door and they entered, warily scanning the building for guards. Ivy had said earlier that nobody knew about the planned heist, but Zam was still on edge as they entered. The place looked deserted. Ivy took one last look around before turning and handing an empty sack to Zam, "Changeling, you go to the west wing. There are some artifacts there worth taking. Watch out for trip wires and the like." She turned to Harley, "And you go to that silly diamond exhibit. Watch out for the alarms this time. I'll be in the labs. We'll regroup here when we're done." With that, the trio split up, all heading in opposite directions.

Zam did her best to shake off that nagging feeling that something bad was going to happen as she walked quickly down the halls. She put her hand on her holstered gun that Ivy had bought her for reassurance. The place was eerily silent as the artifacts came into view. Zam's pace quickened. She was almost there. Once she was in the exhibit, she could just throw some stuff in her bag, regroup with the others, and leave this creepy old museum for good. Suddenly, she stopped walking. It might've been her imagination, but she could've sworn she heard something moving. Something close…

Zam pulled out her gun, turned on her heel, and shot. The bullet hit the guard in the chest, sending him down. In that instant, the silence was shattered and guards suddenly surrounded her, seeming to appear from nowhere. They were all pointing their guns straight at her. How had she not heard them before? She scolded herself as she looked around.

"Put your hands above your head!" One of the guards commanded. Slowly, Zam obeyed. "Drop the gun!" The same guard yelled. Zam's grip didn't loosen on the gun, "I said drop-"

"Changeling, hold your breath!" Ivy suddenly called from behind them. The guards whirled, allowing Zam a chance to run for it, holding her breath as she sprinted away. She looked back and saw Ivy hurl a glass vial at the crowd of guards, who ducked. The glass vial shattered, sending up a fine mist of yellowish spores that caused the guards one by one to drop to their knees, coughing and wheezing fitfully. Zam and Ivy both turned and ran for the exit.

Suddenly, a new gun was pointed at them. "Freeze and drop your weapons." The man in front of them was dressed in black coveralls and had a steel mask covering his face. Neither Ivy nor Changeling moved. The man waved the gun between them, "Drop them, or one of you dies." He commanded. Ivy slowly began to place the glass vials on the ground when she suddenly attacked, striking out at the man's legs. The man almost fell, but caught himself and fired a shot at Ivy. The bullet hit her in the stomach, sending her down. Zam gasped, but didn't have time to help her fallen friend as Harley was running towards her with a caped, bat-masked man chasing after her.

The man guarding Changeling was distracted just long enough for Changeling to push his gun away and shoot him with her own weapon. The man went down and Changeling ran towards the caped figure that must have been Batman. Batman dodged her shots as if he knew where she was going to shoot before she even pulled the trigger. Zam cursed, as she was soon out of ammunition. Suddenly, she felt two strong arms pinning her arms to her side. She stopped struggling and closed her eyes, concentrating one her body as she shifted rapidly. Two razor sharp protrusions of bone burst from her elbows, stabbing at her would-be captor. The man stumbled back, surprised. She was-

-beautiful, in that familiar way that so bothered Jango. '_She's just another bounty.'_ He told himself as he pulled out his gun and pointed it at her. He could feel blood seeping out where she'd stabbed him right below the ribs. The wound wasn't deep and he did his best to ignore it. He could hear Batman yelling at Quinn to surrender, but he didn't dare look behind him to see what was happening. Changeling-

-stared at the gun and then up at the man's masked face. Ivy and Harley had saved her before. Now, she was one her own. She could hear the remaining guards running up from behind her, ready to assist with her capture. She wasn't going out without a fight. Jagged claw-like fragments of bone pushed out from her fingertips as she-

-grabbed his hand, her claws digging into his wrist as she twisted her arm to the side, trying to force him to drop the gun. Instead, Jango clenched his teeth to block the pain as the claws extended further into his skin. Fighting off his instincts to simply let go, he pulled the trigger fired a shot. The claws suddenly disappeared as Jango looked down and saw that the bullet had hit just above her ankle. Changeling grimaced, but she didn't stop fighting for long. She-

-turned unsteadily on the other foot and pointed her gun at the advancing guards. The gun was empty but they didn't know that and Zam was desperate. She regretted her decision as she saw the look of panic on one of the guard's faces followed by the sound of a gunshot. The bullet hit Zam in the stomach, the pain of both injuries causing her to drop the unloaded gun. She looked around wildly and saw Harley fighting off more masked men as they tried taking Ivy away. She felt her control over her form slipping away as she sank to her knees. She knew they'd see that she wasn't human and was-

-somehow changing, her form flickering spasmodically as she fell. Jango watched disbelievingly as her skin changed from tan to grayish green and her human features fell away to reveal what could only be the form of a Clawdite changeling. Jango knew it was Zam. She was here in this universe with him, in this twisted afterlife. A microsecond of joy was replaced by horror. He had shot her! The guards were on her now, pointing their guns at her as she struggled to keep from fading out of consciousness as they stared in shock at her alien face. Somehow he found his voice and was suddenly-

-yelling and pushing the guards away from her as she watched, wondering what was going on through the waves of pain wracking her body. His voice sounded so familiar but she couldn't process what was happening. Everything seemed to go so fast as she watched the other masked men hold him back as he fought until one of the guards walked up behind him and tried to handcuff him. The steel masked man pulled away and suddenly turned on the guard, striking him in the neck hard enough that Zam could hear the crack of bone. The guard went down and the masked man came closer again, looking around frantically as more guards advanced on him. He turned to Zam, his face still hidden beneath the mask until suddenly, he reached up and ripped it off, now staring at her with that face that stirred countless memories. For the second time since she had arrived in this universe, the last coherent thought that filtered through her mind before she lost consciousness came in the form of a name; _Jango Fett._


	6. Sinners Reconciled

The next time Zam woke up, it wasn't in a toxic swamp or in the hideout of her accomplices. This time, she woke up alone in a hospital room, lying on a hard, bolted down bed by a covered window. She weakly raised her head to take in the situation. Her leg was tightly bandaged and her entire abdomen ached. Her hands were handcuffed tightly to the sides of the bed, so tightly that she couldn't shape shift out of the bonds or, at least, not in her weakened state. She lowered her head again as she remembered what had happened the night before. Jango must have been working with the police as some sort of mercenary. That would explain a lot. '_He shot me…"_ Zam thought, wincing at the memory. _'But then once I was down, he started attacking the guards…'_

In an instant of realization, Zam understood. He hadn't recognized her. Of course he hadn't. She had been in an entirely different form and an entirely different outfit. She hadn't recognized him either with his steel mask. She remembered being injured and unable to retain her human form. That must have been when Jango realized who she was. And then? He had tried scattering the guards and mauled one when they tried to hold him back. Why? Why try and save somebody you had killed in a past life? Was it possible that he actually cared for her?

Zam's thoughts were interrupted by two men entering the hospital room. Both of them wore suits and ties and held briefcases. They both looked as grim as death as they stood by Zam's hospital bed. There was a terse silence before any of them spoke.

"We do hope you will be cooperative." One of the men spoke, "Your cooperation would mean a lot less trouble for all of us." Their words reeked of authority.

"What happened to Harley and Ivy?" Zam asked.

Both men exchanged glances before replying, "You're criminal friends got away but they will be apprehended soon, we can assure you. Ms. Isley was injured in the fight and was only able to escape with the help of Ms. Quinn. They won't last long." Despite the man's ominous prediction, Zam breathed a sigh of relief. They had gotten away.

"They abandoned you." One of the men said, "They never cared for you at all, it seems." Zam bristled. She wasn't angry with Harley or Ivy. They had done the smart thing by escaping when they could. She was angrier with the guards for trying to convince her of such things. Still, she stayed quiet.

"Now, Ms. Changeling, why don't you tell us exactly _what_ you are and what you are doing in Gotham?" One of the guards asked, staring intently, "You obviously are not human." Zam remained silent. The guard sighed before continuing, "Ms. Changeling, if you do not tell us outright, we will be forced to take you to a lab for 'testing.' You should know that the procedures they perform there are terribly painful and degrading. I'd hate to see you used as a common lab rat." Zam had a terrible flashback of reading a book about what less civilized societies did when they came in contact with off-worlders for the first time. She remembered the vivid pictures of the mutilated corpses that remained of the unfortunate aliens.

She tried to keep her voice from shaking as she spoke, "I can be anything." She said, forcing a smile. To prove her point, she shifted into the human form she had been wearing at the museum.

The men looked unimpressed, "We aren't interested in what you can turn into. We want to know about your original form. Now, why don't you go and turn back into your normal self?" Zam remained stubbornly in human form. One of the men started speaking again, "Do you know what a vivisection is?" He asked, leaning in close, "It's basically a dissection, except it's performed while the subject is alive and in most cases, awake. Can you imagine that? Being cut open while you're still conscious? And do you know what's really scary about it? A lot of the scientists here in Gotham are quite keen on seeing how different organisms respond internally to pain, so they simply don't use painkillers on their subjects during vivisections. Can you imagine feeling a scalpel cut you open and the sensation of gloved hands poking through your organs while you're bolted down and unable to move? I wonder how your body would respond to such agony… I'm sure the scientists would find it absolutely fascinating."

Zam closed her eyes tightly as she spoke, "I don't know how I got here, okay?" She said, not caring that her voice was shaking now, "I just woke up here and couldn't remember anything, I swear!"

"Can you tell us anything about what you are?" The men were listening closely now.

"I'm a Clawdite changeling from Zolan." Zam tried to explain, but the men's faces were uncomprehending. She didn't know how to explain it to people who had never even left their own planet.

"Is that the best you can do?" One of the men asked, sounding disappointed, "Nothing about internal neurological processes or biochemical reactions?"

Zam looked incredulously at the men's' faces, "How can I know that? I'm not a scientist or anything!"

The men both sighed before one spoke again, "It's a pity you can't tell us. That leaves a visit to the laboratory as our only option for acquiring the necessary information."

"No!" Zam said, her voice rising in fear, "If you hurt me there will be others who will come after you!" She lied. The men exchanged glances. Zam continued, "They're out there disguised as humans. If they learn what happened to me, they'll come after you. They'll tear you apart." Zam said, trying to sound confident, even though she wanted nothing more than to run as fast as she could away from these sociopathic men.

The men laughed chillingly, "That's just as well." One said, "Because _nobody_ will learn what happened to you." With that, one of the men opened his briefcase and pulled out a long syringe. Zam's eyes focused on its opaque contents. Was it a sedative? She didn't want to find out. She couldn't escape though. The handcuffs held her firmly in place as the man examined the syringe. Zam could barely lift herself off the bed with her injuries, much less fight off two able-bodied men while restrained. Seeing no other alternative, she did the only thing left to do. She screamed for help.

"Help! Somebody help!" She yelled, "I'm being attacked!" She didn't know if anybody would listen. For all she knew, the hospital staff knew what was going on and were working with the two men. Still, she had no other option.

"Shut her up!" One of the men growled. The other man nodded and held her down with one hand while approaching her vein with the needle in the other. Zam screamed wordlessly, fighting to stay away from the needle as well as she could. She couldn't move very far though and could soon feel the cold metal of the needle on her skin. She closed her eyes. She knew the next time she woke up, it could be on a vivisection table at a laboratory. '_You tried saving me, Jango. Too bad you didn't recognize me earlier.'_

Suddenly, the sensation of the needle on her skin disappeared. Slowly, Zam opened her eyes. The men had suddenly turned their attention away from Zam and were staring agape at the menacing figure in the hospital doorway. "…Jango?" Zam breathed a sigh of relief, too grateful to be confused at the bounty hunter's sudden appearance. He was dressed in his familiar Mandalorian armor, his helmet's black visor glowering at the two men.

The two men backed away from the door, still wide-eyed. In one deft movement, Jango crossed the hospital room floor and grabbed one of the men by the neck. The man floundered, dropping the syringe in his hand as he gasped for breath. Jango dropped the man and caught the syringe just before it hit the ground. Not even stopping to check the contents, he stuck the needle into the man's vein and emptied its contents into his bloodstream. A shudder went through the man's body before he went completely limp.

Jango turned to the other man, who had backed into a corner and was now facing him with an expression of panic on his face. Jango advanced and grabbed him by the collar before slamming him against the wall. He pulled back and then smashed him brutally into the wall again so that Zam could hear the _crack_ his skull made when it hit the concrete. Two more impacts with the wall and the man was unconscious. Another three and there was blood. It would only take a few more before he was dead.

"Jango!" Zam cried, "He's down!" As if coming out of a trance, Jango slowly dropped the other man to the ground.

He turned quickly to Zam, "Are you alright?" He asked, his normally detached voice betraying a tone of definite concern.

"I'm fine." She said, staring at the unmoving body of the other man on the ground. Jango opened one of their briefcases and looked through it before holding up a small key. He walked quickly back to Zam's side and released her from the handcuffs. Now free from the restraints, Zam tried to get up. The stabbing pain in her leg and her stomach stopped her. She winced and tried again, now managing to slide into a sitting position, her leg hanging over the edge of the bed. She didn't think she could support herself if she tried to walk. Without a word, Jango walked over and scooped her up in his arms. He was surprisingly gentle and Zam couldn't help but blush. How could this be the same man who had killed her in a past life?

"Comfortable?" Jango asked, his concern giving way to slight amusement. Zam realized she was clinging to him as if her life depended on it. Zam only loosened her grip fractionally.

With Zam in his arms, Jango made his way to the window, which was covered with a sheet of plywood, intended to keep outsiders from looking in. Jango kicked through the thin wood easily and then opened the window, careful to keep a good grip on Zam at the same time. "Hold on." He said, as he stepped through the window. Zam's grip tightened as she found herself looking down quite a few stories to the ground. Jango, as usual, kept his head and calmly raised a hand to fire his grappling hook at one of the overhangs of the hospital wall. Zam's arms tightened in a death grip as they stepped off the edge and descended, with only one of Jango's arms supporting her as they plunged steadily towards the ground. Zam let out a sigh of relief when they landed safely. Jango looked down at her anxiously.

"I'm fine." Zam assured him again. Part of her wanted to be angry with Jango. '_Are you forgetting that he murdered you?" _Her thoughts growled. Zam couldn't be angry though. Jango had saved her from being vivisected, a fate that, based on the description of the two men, would have been worse than death. "Does that make us even?" Zam asked aloud.

Zam heard Jango sigh under his helmet. For some reason, he sounded almost sad, "I hope so."

%

The pair took a taxi to the outskirts of Gotham. Zam adopted the puckish human form she had worn in her past life rather than the one she had worn when she had become Changeling. Few would recognize her as Changeling the super villainess when she was in this form. The driver gave them a few odd looks, but a generous tip kept him from asking any questions. Jango directed the driver to drop them off at a small abandoned house, far away from any other structures. "I heard it was abandoned because it was a fire hazard." Jango explained as he carried Zam through the door, "Not enough windows or doors and no nearby fire station or water source. The property value was so low that it was cheaper to just abandon it rather than update it to fit within regulations."

Zam nodded as she looked around. The place was sparsely furnished with dusty furniture that looked like it had been there for years. A couch was pushed against one wall and a desk and wooden chair against another. A television with a bent antenna sat on the floor.

Jango gently placed her on the couch before seating himself on the wooden chair. He took off his helmet and placed it on the desk. He turned and looked her over, his eyes flickering to her injuries. "Sorry I wasn't there earlier." He said quietly, "I was waiting for those men to leave. I didn't know they'd attack you."

Zam regarded Jango curiously. She wondered if he still felt guilty for killing her, even though he had already saved her and made up for it. "They didn't exactly attack me." Zam said with a shrug, "They tried taking me away to be vivisected."

"I'd say that counts as an attack." Jango remarked.

Zam smiled slightly before faltering. She looked up at Jango, her face serious, "Jango… Why did you save me?" She asked, "You could have left me there and gotten paid and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. You had already killed me once. Why didn't you do it again?"

Jango was silent for a moment, staring down at the floor. When he spoke, he looked directly at Zam, his voice completely void of deceit or insincerity. "I hated myself after Coruscant." He said, "I couldn't believe that I had killed you. I wished that I could make it up to you, but there was nothing I could do. There were no second chances. When I realized that you were in this universe with me, I knew that I needed to somehow atone for what I had done. I still do."

"Jango, you've already atoned." Zam insisted, "You saved me back there. I'd be in some laboratory being vivisected right now if you hadn't been there."

Jango shook his head, "You might've not been in that situation if I hadn't helped put you in that hospital in the first place."

Zam sighed and closed her eyes. It was still fairly early in the day, but Zam felt unbelievably tired. She was about to drift off, when she suddenly opened her eyes and spoke. "Jango?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Jango smiled, "I love you too."

**((Just a heads-up, this is the next to last chapter! I think. I don't really have a definite outline, just a big blob of text saying what's supposed to happen. And just because this story is almost over doesn't mean that this is the resolution. In truth, we haven't even reached the climax. That's right, be prepared because the next chapter is going to be the big finale! I can't say a lot without spoiling the ending, so I'll just say once again, PREPARE YOURSELF.))**


	7. Scatter The Ashes, Scatter Their Hearts

**((I'm just gonna apologize for having so many chapters that begin with somebody waking up. I'm just gonna go ahead and call it a motif. Anyways, this is the last chapter and it's a good thing I'm posting it now, because I'm going on a 2-week trip to China in a few days! Woo!))**

Jango awoke the next morning sitting on the wooden chair in the dim little house, the small space just barely illuminated by a faintly shining beam of early morning daylight streaming through the small single window. Zam was lying peacefully asleep on the couch, her chest rising and falling slowly as she slumbered. Seeing her in the human form she had worn so often with him, rather than the one she had concocted as a super villainess, almost made it seem as if they were back in their own universe. It was a familiarity that made this form even more beautiful than the one she had worn as Changeling.

Zam stirred and stretched, green irises becoming visible as she opened her eyes. She looked over at Jango and smiled, "Good morning, Jango." She yawned.

"Good morning." Jango replied, "Feeling better?"

Zam slowly eased into a sitting position, "Yeah. I should probably try to get back on my feet. I can't just lie down all day." With this said, she carefully tried to stand. She grimaced slightly as she tried putting her weight on the injured leg. "Don't worry, I'm fine." She said, upon seeing Jango's apprehensive expression. Favoring her uninjured leg, she carefully stood up. Leaning on the wall, she made her way around the room. It was slow progress and she had to limp awkwardly in order to keep from placing too much weight on the injured leg, but at least it was movement.

"You were shot in the stomach too." Jango said, "Will that cause any problems?"

Zam shrugged, "I probably shouldn't move all that much so I don't mess up the sutures, but with a shot leg, I probably don't have to worry about that." She saw Jango's guilty expression and quickly added, "Don't say sorry about it. I would shoot somebody too if they were sticking claws into my wrist. Speaking of which, I didn't do any major damage, did I?"

Jango smirked, "You missed the main artery." He said.

"I must be slipping." Zam said teasingly. She cautiously made her way back to the couch and sat down. A pensive look crossed her face before she spoke, "We're probably on some sort of wanted list now." She said, "I can't get very far in this state and neither of us have any sort of vehicle. Where will we go if they find us?"

Jango was silent for a moment, before he spoke, "If they come for us, I guess the only way out is to fight."

Zam looked worried, "And if we lose?"

Jango's voice was grim when he spoke, "We just don't lose."

%

Jango left the house at around noon, now wearing his 'normal' clothes. He had been wearing a mask for the greater part of his time here and he doubted anybody would recognize him, especially when he was dressed in such ordinary clothing. It took some time walking, but he eventually reached a small general store in a group of scattered buildings and trailers. The small shop was lit with harsh fluorescent lights that buzzed loudly from above. The store clerk was a bored looking teenaged boy who was too busy playing a handheld video game to even notice Jango walk in. Grabbing a white plastic bag from the dispenser, Jango quickly picked out some food and basic supplies before walking back to the counter. The teen barely even looked up at him as he paid for the items and walked out of the door. Jango walked out of the store, intending to start heading back to the house when a flicker or movement caught his eye. He looked over and saw a flash of black fabric flutter around the back of the store. Jango had a feeling that he knew who it was. Walking around the building, he saw a familiar form in the shadows. He tensed instantly, ready to fight.

"Calm down." Said the gruff voice, "I'm not here to arrest you."

Jango didn't let his guard down for a moment, "I attacked a police officer." Jango said cagily, "I'm a villain. You're Batman. Isn't it your job to arrest me?"

Batman stepped out of the scarce shadows, his dark form looking distinctly out of place in the daylight, "I'm not here to arrest you." He repeated, "I'm here to warn you." Jango didn't reply. Batman continued, "The Gotham City Police Department has decided that they need to make an example of you and Changeling, in order to intimidate the other villains. They think that if your fate is shocking enough, it may cause other villains to rethink their actions. You are wanted dead. Changeling is wanted dead or alive. If she is taken alive, she is to be vivisected at the Gotham Laboratories."

Jango felt his chest tighten. "Why are you warning me?" Jango demanded, "I thought you were on their side."

Batman shook his head, "I want justice. Having both of you killed isn't justice. It's more like a public crucifixion. I can't give you any help other than warning you and advising you to leave Gotham."

Jango shook his head, "Changeling is injured and can't travel. I won't leave her here."

Batman nodded, "Then I can only wish you luck." He paused, regarding Jango carefully, "You have a great deal more decency than most villains I've come across."

Jango shrugged, "Even villains have their moments." He said, "Thank you for warning me." He still watched Batman warily as if still expecting him to suddenly change his mind about not arresting him at any moment.

Batman nodded, and as quickly as he had appeared, departed, leaving Jango to return to the house in silence. The long trip felt more like a death march now.

%

Jango walked into the house to find Zam sitting on the couch, staring fixedly at the grainy image on the TV. Jango could hear the muffled words of the reporter from the television set, "The chief of police says that the search for Changeling and her accomplice is one of the top priorities after the violent assault against two well-respected members of the scientific community, who went to interview the villainess after her arrest. Both members say that they were asking her basic questions when they were suddenly attacked by a-" Jango crossed the room and turned off the television in one swift motion.

Zam continued to stare at the blank screen for a while before turning to Jango, "You should leave." She said.

Jango stared back, surprised, "Why would I do that?" He asked.

Zam sighed, "Face it, Jango. I'm deadweight. When people find out where we're hiding, there's gonna be no place to run. I can't leave in my current state and neither can you if you're stuck here worrying about me. If you leave now, you might be able to save yourself. Staying here with me is just going to get you arrested or worse."

Jango dropped the groceries on the ground and went to sit beside Zam on the couch, "Zam, I'm not going to let you die here alone just to save myself. I made that mistake in a past life that I'm not going to let it happen again. If I'm arrested or die, then so be it."

"Don't talk like that." Zam said wearily, "I don't want you to let something happen to yourself for me. I'm telling you now that if you choose to leave, I won't hold it against you and you'd go with my blessing."

"And I'm telling you that I'm not going to leave, even if my life depends on it." Jango retorted.

Zam sighed, but there was a sort of contentment in her voice when she spoke, "I guess I can't force you to do otherwise."

%

It was approaching nighttime when they heard the scream of sirens, at first an uncomfortable omen in the distance and then a quickly approaching threat. Jango was in his armor in a matter of seconds, protected within the iron barrier. He still had his gun, which he gave to Zam to use from the shelter of the house. Unless he could somehow get his hands on another one, any fighting he'd do would be done hand-to-hand. He watched as the red and blue lights came nearer as he stood by the door, tense, but at the same time, prepared. He felt Zam grab his wrist and he looked back.

She stared into his eyes, her expression showing fear, but also a grim determination. "I won't be taken alive." She said, "If something happens to me, I want you to run. I don't care if it bruises your ego, just run." She said with a crooked smile. Jango nodded, but he refused to think about it. The thought of losing Zam again would only distract him. Right now, he needed to focus on keeping both of them alive.

It wasn't until the squad cars pulled up that Jango realized how many men they'd have to overcome if they wanted to survive. There must have been dozens of men in squad cars alone, not including what seemed to be the special forces vans behind them. Why all of this for only two fugitive criminals? Then Jango remembered Batman's words. They were trying to make an example out of them. The cars stopped a respectable distance away and a single figure walked out. As the figure came closer, Jango recognized him as his sergeant, the one who had recruited him into the squad that had targeted Zam and her accomplices. Jango approached the man, getting a safe distance from the house before stopping. The sergeant walked fearlessly up to Jango, radiating confidence. Jango simply regarded him coldly. The sergeant stopped in front of him, a dissatisfied, almost contemptous expression on his face. He placed a hand on Jango's shoulder. Jango considered breaking his arm.

The sergeant sighed "What are you doing here?" He asked, like a disappointed father speaking to his son, "One second you're the best sharpshooter on our force and now?" He looked behind Jango, gesturing at the house, "You're out here, sheltering a wanted killer in the middle of nowhere." Jango didn't reply. The sergeant sighed again, "At least tell me why." He said, "She tried killing you in the museum and now you're out here helping her. Have you lost your mind?" He shook his head, "I'll tell you what. If you surrender right now, all charges against you will be dropped. You can walk away like nothing ever happened." Jango responded by curling his fingers into fists. The sergeant locked eyes with him, his eyes angry now, "You're a traitor." He hissed, "You're betraying Gotham and you're betraying your family. What about your son? What about your girl who died fighting to protect what you're willing to destroy? Are you going to just betray her?"

An icy smile found its way onto Jango's face beneath the helmet, "No, I'm not." With that, he suddenly lashed out at the sergeant, taking him by surprise. Despite the surprise attack, the sergeant quickly righted himself and pulled his own gun out of its holster. His movements were suddenly cut short by the sound of a gunshot ringing through the open space. The sergeant fell forward, blood pouring from a bullet wound in the head. Jango glanced back at the house to see Zam in the doorway holding the smoking gun in her hands.

Men suddenly swarmed the area, pulling out their guns and yelling orders. Jango quickly crouched to the ground and grabbed the gun from the dead sergeant's holster. He shot down several men who were charging towards him. The other men returned fire, the roar of their guns forming a deafening wall of sound. Jango dodged, but one of the bullets managed to reach him. It hit one of his armor plates, which deflected the unsophisticated projectile with ease. Jango returned fire, knocking down even more guards. Now the gunfire was constant and coming from everywhere, from the cops in front of him, from his own gun, and from Zam behind him. More cops fell victim to the bullets, but Jango remained unharmed. His gun ran out of ammunition and he had to make his way to the body of another fallen cop to take his weapon. He felt a sudden jolt of flashing pain and saw blood on his upper arm where there was no armor. He grimaced at the bullet wound, but continued to return fire using his remaining arm, his mind completely focused on the task of survival.

Suddenly, the special forces vans that had lay dormant until then suddenly opened their doors, unleashing several squads of men outfitted with helmets and Kevlar armor. Their guns were shaped differently than the ones of the cops and were much bigger. The men made a beeline for the house. Jango's eyes widened. He needed to protect Zam. He tried firing on the special forces men but was stopped by another hail of bullets from the cops. He returned fire for only a few seconds before suddenly turning and running towards the house. Zam had retreated inside the house as the men approached. She must have ran out of bullets. However, instead of going into the house after her, the men aimed their guns at the exterior. Jango took out a few men with his remaining bullets but it was too late. Torrents of flames surged from their weapons as Jango realized with horror that they weren't using guns; they were using flamethrowers. They were going to burn down the house with Zam still inside.

"No!" Jango shouted, his voice only barely audible over the combined roar of flamethrowers and gunfire. Jango didn't stop to think. He rushed into the house, ignoring the quickly spreading flames that licked at him as he passed. He knew his armor would protect him.

His eyes darted wildly around as he searched for Zam among the smoke and flames. He saw her, curled up with her knees hugged against her chest as the flames drew nearer. Jango ran to her and grabbed her arm, trying to pull her up, "Come on!" He yelled, "I know a way out!"

Zam looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, "I'm sorry, Jango." She said, "I can't leave."

Jango stared incredulously at her, "Zam, we don't have time for this! You're going to die if you don't get out!"

Zam smiled sadly through her tears, "And if I survive? I'll be captured, vivisected, and probably killed afterwards."

"That's not going to happen." Jango insisted, "We'll find a way out of this."

Zam laughed mirthlessly, "Jango, we're stranded on a planet where we're wanted dead with no vehicles, virtually no weapons, and one of us unable to travel. Do you actually think we can win?" The flames around them crackled as they drew ever closer. Zam gave Jango a small push, "Get out of here." Zam said, "With your armor, you can make it through the fire. You're stronger than me. You can make it out there." Jango didn't move. "Go!" Zam said, her voice rising with urgency, "Jango, get out!"

Jango didn't respond. Instead, he lifted his helmet off his head, exposing his lungs to the smoke that surrounded them. Without the helmet, Jango could feel the searing heat around them and every instinct in his body screamed for him to put his helmet back on and run.

"Jango!" Zam gasped, "Don't do this! You need to get out!" Jango didn't say anything, only sank to his knees beside her. Zam stared disbelievingly at him. "Jango…" She whispered.

Jango took her hand in his gloved one. Zam stared back at him, understanding dawning in her eyes. Jango managed to give her a wistful smile, "At least in this universe, we can die together." He said quietly, before bringing them closer together and finally, kissing her amidst the flames. She didn't resist. Instead, she embraced him as they kissed, as they both ignored the blaze that would burn them, ignored the smoke that would suffocate them, and the crumbling house that would serve as their funeral pyre.

Jango thought that dying would hurt, but it didn't. He didn't feel the heat anymore, nor did the smoke burn his lungs. He could only feel the final kiss, his last memory of life. Jango opened his eyes to gaze upon Zam and saw that the she was physically fading away, her form becoming less and less solid until he could see the flames dancing behind her. Zam slowly opened her own eyes as well and Jango could tell from the surprise in her widened eyes that the same must have been happening to him. Through the blissful fading, Jango realized that this was dying, dying gently, dying peacefully and dying together, even as the world burned around them.

As Jango's mortal form fell away, he realized what Destiny had meant when he had said that this was a second chance. It wasn't a second chance to live. It was a second chance to die, a second chance for him and Zam to die together, die by love rather than mistrust and turmoil as it had been in their previous lives.

By now, neither Jango nor Zam were alive in the physical sense. They were dead and gone, but instead of emptiness, Jango felt peace. Zam's presence was still with him, their spirits bound by their shared deaths. Jango could feel her own bliss and knew her thoughts without ever speaking a word.

'_So,' _Her thoughts seemed to say, awed, '_This is heaven.'_

'_No,' _Jango thought back, '_This is a second chance.'_

**((Fin! I hope you all liked Scatterheart! Any constructive criticism, praise, questions, canonical corrections, et cetera are gladly accepted!))**


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